


Clean

by Fabrisse



Category: Criminal Minds, NCIS
Genre: F/M, drug use referenced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-22
Updated: 2010-04-22
Packaged: 2017-10-09 02:22:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/81933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: When Reid goes through withdrawals, he calls Abby who calls Ducky who calls Hotch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clean

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: There is a description of opiate withdrawal. Spoilers for The Big Game and Revelations. There's no sex in this one.  
> Disclaimer: I put them back when I finished playing with them.
> 
> This is my response to the January 2010 prompt at criminal_prompt. This month's was "A Fresh Start."   
> It is also a sequel to my Spencer Reid/Abby Sciuto story "You Meet The Most Interesting People at Lectures" and references my Ducky/Abby story "Lipstick."

He'd read the literature. He knew the risks, but getting clean by going to a detox center would destroy his career. Somehow, he'd never thought about having a career, not the way his mother did. He hated to admit it, but in that alone he was more like his father. He had a job.

Imagine his surprise when the sensation of face hitting sidewalk, metaphorically speaking, was not doing his job. Somewhere between his first day at work and looking for a female Jack-the-Ripper in New Orleans, Spencer Reid had acquired a career that was more important to him than anything.

Being the kind of man he was, he did his research. He had Gatorade and easy to swallow foods in the house. He'd even stocked extra toilet paper. Then he went to Hotch and asked for three weeks of leave.

***   
When Reid woke up on the third day, he knew he needed help. He had to hold the phone in both hands to stop the shaking, and he was inordinately happy that speed dial existed.

Just as he thought it was going to voice mail, she answered. "Spencer?"

"Abby? What's your case load like?"

It had been nearly ten weeks since Abby last saw Spencer Reid. Something had happened on a case, she knew, but other than the odd email here and there about trivialities, they'd had no contact for nearly three months. The weakness in his voice shook her.

"It's light. Even if it weren't, I can always help a friend." Abby's voice went husky.

"I haven't been a good friend. I, I don't want to talk about this on the phone, but I'm in bad shape."

"I'll be there in ten minutes, and that's only because I have to tell Gibbs that I'm taking some of my piles of comp time."

Reid nodded at the phone. "Thank you. The gate should be open, but buzz me if you can't get in the front door."

She was as good as her word. Reid heard the knock on his apartment door nine minutes later. He knew he looked terrible, but he wasn't prepared for the shock on her face when she saw him.

Abby looked around the apartment, opening the door to the closet that doubled as his bedroom. "What's going on?"

"Opiates. I'm withdrawing. My dosage wasn't that high, but ..." He began to shiver uncontrollably, and Abby put her arms around him holding him up.

"Dosage?"

"Dilaudid. And no, I don't have a prescription for it." Reid couldn't meet her eyes.

"It happens." Abby didn't know how it had happened to him, but she wasn't going to question him now. "Let me get you to an emergency room."

"No!" The force of the word toppled them both to the floor.

She'd never heard him yell before. "You aren't keeping down liquids. Dehydration is going to make this worse."

"If I could go to a doctor, I would, but..."

Abby shook her head as if to clear it. "What was I thinking? FBI insurance, treatment for a drug addiction, you're right. The ER is out."

She walked him to a chair and went to get him some Gatorade. She watered it down.

"Sip this slowly. Is your cell reception still best on the balcony?"

He nodded and took the glass with both hands.

She smiled as he took a sip, and opened the door to his balcony. She hit two on her speed dial.

"Yes, Abigail?" Ducky's voice sounded distracted.

"Ducky, how's your work load?"

"Jethro told me you wouldn't be here for a few days."

"You dodged the question."

"Nothing of great urgency. I could let Mister Palmer do the preliminaries on his own. Or should I call in another ME?"

"It's Spencer."

"There are at least three Virginia medical examiners that owe me deep favors. I'll have one of them covering for me within the hour. Where are you?"

Abby gave him the address. "Bring your medical bag."

"I'd planned to, my dear."

***   
There was a knock at the door half an hour later. Abby answered it.

"I sent Spencer into lie down again. He threw up the watered Gatorade I gave him." She gave him a hug. "I didn't know who else to call."

"You did the right thing, calling me." He patted her cheek. "Where is he?"

She knocked at the door just inside the entry.

Reid called. "I'm awake."

"Are you up for a visit from your physician?" Ducky asked.

"I…" He heaved a deep sigh. "Sure, Ducky. This won't get you into trouble, will it?"

"There's no reason it should. I'm a licensed physician, even if I don't have a regular practice, and the confidentiality laws are on our side." He lifted a too thin wrist and felt the pulse. When he finished, he pinched some skin on the back of Reid's hand and did one or two other things. "I'm going to take your blood pressure, but I can tell you right now that you're seriously dehydrated. The bad news is, once it gets to this stage, dehydration is self-perpetuating. You'll probably vomit anything I give you orally. The good news is IV treatment is relatively simple." He finished by quickly lifting each of Reid's eyelids.

Ducky put his stethoscope away. "Abby, Spencer and I need to talk."

"I'll start cleaning up the kitchen."

"No, Abby, I'll do that later."

She ignored Spencer and closed the door.

"What drug have you been on?"

"Dilaudid. The original hits I was given had a hallucinogen in it as well, but I don't know what it was."

Ducky raised his eyebrows. "How long?"

"Less than three months."

"You're going to come home with me where I can look after you. Abby will join us later, after cleaning your apartment."

"I'll do it myself later."

Ducky looked at him sternly. "I'm calling it cleaning. What she's really doing is going through everything you own to make sure you don't have more of this drug stashed somewhere. I can't treat you unless I have a reasonable assurance it will succeed."

"I tossed it all when I asked Hotch for leave. I didn't know the symptoms were going to get so bad."

"They shouldn't have at your age, but you're so thin that I guess you just didn't have any reserves. It happens."

"Ducky, the bathroom is in terrible shape. I was really sick before I called Abby. I don't want her to clean it. Can't you take my word for it?"

He patted the younger man's shoulder. "I could gladly take the word of my colleague Doctor Reid, or the word of my friend Spencer, but, sadly, I learned long ago that I can't trust a junkie."

Reid looked like he'd been slapped across the face.

Ducky continued. "You're young. God knows you have a will of iron to have made it this far. I have no doubt you want to end the addiction, and you will succeed. Just the fact that you've started the process so soon after becoming hooked is proof of that. I'll help you in any and every way I can."

"But you need to search my apartment to make sure I'm telling you the truth." Reid blinked hard. "I understand. While we're in doctor-patient mode… my mother is a schizophrenic. I'm worried that one of the side effects either from the drug or the withdrawal could be either mistaken for onset or worse, be the onset in me."

Ducky blinked twice. "I'll tell you what. I'll search your bathroom right now. Lord knows, I've been in enough war zones that it won't bother me. I'll have Abby search your living room, and I'll call a maid service to clean everything for when you get back. Either Abby or I will search this room before you return here. Will that work?"

Reid gave a curt nod.

"Spencer, the worst words in the English language are 'it's for your own good,' but I truly believe that's the case."

"I'm just ashamed."

Ducky gripped his hand tightly in wordless sympathy. "Now, I see a bag over there. You pack it with anything you'll need to stay with me for a week or more. Keep it casual. The easier to remove the better and at least two sets of pajamas. If you haven't had them yet, maybe you can avoid night sweats, but if you can't, fresh night clothes are the ultimate luxury after a bout." At Spencer's quizzical look, he smiled. "I had malaria when I was younger. Meanwhile, I'll check your bathroom."

"And you'll unpack my bag when we get to your house." Reid looked defeated.

"I will, Spencer."

***   
Abby had been deputed to stay and wait for the maid service to arrive. She helped Ducky get Reid into the car, and kissed Spencer's forehead. "I'll be there in a couple of hours. In the meantime, Ducky's the best doctor in the world. He's looked after me when I've needed it."

He gave a wan smile. "I just wish I didn't need it. Thank you for coming when I called."

"Just try to keep me away." She smiled, gave a salute, and turned on her heel to go back to his place.

He turned to Ducky. "Am I going to frighten your mother?"

"I called one of her friends while you were packing. She'll be staying with them for a few days. Her nurse knows to go there and the dogs are already with her."

They drove in silence until Ducky got on the George Washington Parkway. "How did it start, Spencer?"

"I was forcibly injected."

"What?"

"There was … JJ and I were supposed to be interviewing a witness who turned out to be the unsub. I split us up. JJ ended up shooting three dogs who were trying to kill her, and I got knocked out and taken hostage."

"I'm sorry. I've been a hostage. Only for a few hours of course, but it was an unpleasant experience."

Reid gave a half smile. "You've lived an interesting life, Ducky."

"I assume PTSD is a complication in all this?"

"Yeah. Maybe. I don't know. Hypervigilance. I'm not having hallucinations or flashbacks that I can tell, but I did with the original injections."

"How long were you held?"

"There's some time distortion. I was taken after dark and rescued after dark and there was at least one night in between. I know it wasn't a whole four days, but it could have been as little as sixty hours."

"Sixty hours as a hostage is at least fifty-nine too long." Ducky glanced over at him as he took the turn toward his home. "There's no kind way to ask this. Were you tortured?"

"A little. Mentally more than physically. I mean I was shackled to a chair, and he beat my feet so that it would be too painful to run, but there really wasn't much physical trauma. I was cleared for duty by the psychiatrist, too."

Ducky hid his reaction to the matter-of-fact recitation. "One so competent, he or she didn't notice you'd become a drug addict."

Reid shrugged. "I'd rather not talk about it. The team saw most of it. I hate that."

"So would I." He pulled into the long drive to his house. "I'm going to need to know, as your doctor."

"I can't." Another shudder came over him.

"Who can?"

The pause dragged on before Reid closed his eyes and finally said, "Hotch. I trust Hotch."

Ducky stopped the car and helped Reid out. "I'm going to put you in the large guest room upstairs. It shares a bathroom with my room, so I'll be able to hear if you're vomiting or in need of assistance in the night. The room also has a daybed. At least for tonight, I think it might be best if I slept there."

Reid was clinging to the banister, trying not to lean on the smaller man. "Is this more 'it's for your own good'?"

"It could be Abby. The bed's big enough. She could share with you rather than the daybed, if you both prefer it."

"I know about you and Abby."

"Of course. Abigail is honest. She cares very deeply for you."

Reid stopped near the top of the stairs and looked at Ducky. "I think she cares for you very deeply too."

The older man prodded him in the back. "I was worried that I might have to challenge you to a duel. Not calling her for so long hurt her, you know. But you called her when you needed someone the most. That's important to Abigail."

"And she called you."

"The way you look, she may have thought you were already dead, for all that you're ambulatory," Ducky said. "I'm going to run a shower for you. I'll leave the doors to the bathroom open so I can hear if you fall, but I'll give you as much privacy as I can. The green towels are yours."

"What color will you give Abby?"

"Pink. It drives her crazy." He left the bathroom and unpacked Reid's bag. There was nothing in it but clothes. He picked out a set of pajamas and left them on the counter. "You all right in there?"

"Yes. I'll just be another minute or two."

Reid came out a few minutes later. "As badly as I'm shaking, shaving was out."

Ducky smiled at the sally. "I'm going to start an IV to rehydrate you. I'll get the chess set or find a book for you depending on how much of my company you want. If you can sleep, do so. When Abby gets here, I'm going to take your phone and call Hotch. Does he know?"

"He knows I haven't been doing my job well. Whether he knows there's something besides PTSD involved… I really don't know."

"You said you trust him."

"I do. It's just, you'll never see me the same way again after this. Or Abby." Reid hissed a little as Ducky missed the vein for a second time.

"I'm sorry. It's one of the side effects of your dehydration." He gestured toward the saline IV's on the nightstand. "Once the first of these are gone, I can get you something to drink without worrying."

Reid held out his hand. "Let me." He thumped his arm a couple of times and inserted the IV into the vein on his first attempt.

"Have any collapsed?"

"No."

Ducky finished adjusting the drip and hung the bag from a portable stand. "I have to keep these for mother. I added something to settle your stomach. No opiates, I promise." He paused at the door. "I will look at you differently. I'll see you as a man of great courage, my friend."

***   
When Abby arrived a bit later, she found them both in the guest room -- Ducky reading in a corner and Spencer asleep.

Ducky walked over to her quietly and pulled the door to behind them. "He hasn't been asleep long. It's the best thing for him right now."

"So the withdrawal is getting better."

He assessed her. "As long as we can keep on top of the physical issues, he won't die. And no, at this point I don't think that's at all likely, but he may still have hallucinations and some other effects. I'm more worried about his mind. He's been numbing himself. When he's no longer numb, he has things to deal with."

"Anything I should know?"

"Ask him when he wakes up, but I'm his doctor in this." He patted her arm sympathetically. "Would you mind grabbing a book and sitting with him? I need to make a couple of phone calls -- make certain mother's settled at Cynthia's."

"You got it, Duckman. I want to help." Abby looked longingly at the closed door.

"You are, just by being here, my dear."

***   
After speaking with his mother, Ducky hung up and went out to the porch. He had Reid's phone and he looked at the list of contacts. He finally found one marked ICE/Hotch and hit send.

"Reid, I thought you were taking vacation."

"This is Doctor Donald Mallard. I'm his physician."

"Is Reid all right?" Hotch's voice was calm, but sharper than it had been.

"Yes. At the moment, he is. I need to ask you a couple of questions. Doctor Reid informed me he was taken hostage a couple of months ago. When I asked him for details, he said he trusted Hotch and pointed me at you. Now, I'm bound as both his friend and his doctor to confidentiality. I'm asking, Mister Hotchner, to whom am I speaking -- the BAU's Unit Chief or Spencer's friend Hotch?"

"I'm in my office, but at six o'clock this evening, I stop being the Unit Chief. I hope I'm always his friend."

"I don't want to take you away from your family."

"My wife has taken our son to visit his grandparents in South Carolina. They'll be gone until the end of next week."

"In that case, Mister Hotchner, would you be willing to come to my home this evening. Spencer's staying with me. I need to know more about what happened to him."

"Give me the address."

Ducky provided it, and finished by saying, "Are you allergic to anything? It will be a scratch meal, but I'll have food for all of us tonight."

"Why don't you let me pick up Chinese food? I know Reid likes it, even if he can't use chopsticks."

"That would be kind. If you know what Spencer likes, and it isn't spicy, please bring it. Soup would be especially good for him."

"I'll see you tonight Doctor Mallard."

"My friends call me Ducky, Hotch."

"Then I'll be there this evening, Ducky."

After he hung up, Hotch called Garcia. "I'm going to need that thumb drive we discussed a couple of months ago."

In her office, Garcia shook her head. "When, Hotch?" It still felt odd to call him that.

"Before I leave tonight, I'm walking out exactly at six."

"You'll have it."

"I know, Penelope."

***

Hotch wasn't sure what he expected, but he should have known from the house that Doctor Mallard was not going to be an average man. The older man seemed pleasant enough -- short, older than Hotch had expected from the voice, and very shrewd. Moreover, Hotch suspected the man had military training from the way he moved.

Ducky looked at Hotch and grinned at the two large bags he was carrying. "There're only four of us. You have enough food to feed an army."

"I didn't know whether you might need leftovers or what Reid needed."

The older man smiled. "Leftovers might be useful, and I think Spencer needs friends who won't judge him at the moment. He and Abby should be down in a few minutes. I hope you don't mind eating in the kitchen, I thought it might be easier."

"Not at all." Hotch held out one of the bags. "Reid really likes soup noodle. I got his favorite, but then I thought duck might not be good on a bad stomach, so I also asked for one with just vegetable wontons and one with just noodles and broth. Everything else is a combination meal for three with vegetarian egg rolls, just in case."

"Belt and braces. The sign of a good leader." He was helping to unpack and distributing silverware and plates around the kitchen island.

"What's up with Reid?" Hotch finally just asked outright.

"I'm honestly not certain about some of it. He's extremely dehydrated."

"Withdrawing from opiates?"

Ducky's head snapped up at the question. "If you know, then why isn't Spencer in a hospital or other program?" He lowered his voice and narrowed his eyes. "This doesn't get back to Abby, but, had Spencer not called us, I think he might have died. Cold turkey is dangerous."

Hotch closed his eyes. "There are ways, even for an active agent to get help, especially since Reid was hooked in an extreme situation. I listened to a colleague about what we should do rather than use my own judgment."

"Jason Gideon? Was that the colleague?"

"You know him?"

"Only from what Spencer's told me," Ducky said. "I don't think he's good for Spencer."

Hotch was honestly shocked. "Without Jason Gideon, the FBI wouldn't have Reid. His pattern reading ability, his vast knowledge, Reid's a natural profiler. I don't know how many cases might not have been solved had he not been part of our team."

Ducky's voice was kind. "Did you notice, Hotch, that everything you said had to do with how good it was to have Spencer on your team, not one word about whether being on your team was good for Spencer."

Hotch opened his mouth and then shut it again and shook his head. He felt the older man pat his shoulder.

"You're basically a good man. Next time, listen to your instincts."

"I should have listened to mine and gone and seen Spencer instead of waiting for him to call me or e-mail." Abby came into the kitchen. "You must be Hotch." She looked him over before smiling mischievously. "Is it true that even your pajamas have ties?"

Hotch nodded solemnly. "My one concession to relaxation is that they don't have to match my slippers."

Abby laughed. "No wonder Spencer likes you."

"Well, I hope you like General Tso's Chicken." Hotch was oddly gratified by her statement.

"Love it. He'll be down in a minute. He wanted another shower before putting on clothes."

Ducky said, "Night sweats?"

"Yeah."

"I'll go up and make sure he gets down the stairs safely. You and Hotch distribute the food."

They were both seated with cups of tea when Ducky and Reid came in. Hotch hoped his face didn't betray his surprise at how thin and pasty his colleague looked, but the half-smile Reid gave him made him wonder.

"You get three choices of soup," Abby said.

"Ducky told me. I'll have the plain noodles. Try to get some calories. Thank you, Hotch."

"Not a problem." He waited until everyone was seated and served before beginning to eat. "I also brought a thumb drive with about half an hour's worth of footage from Hankel and his computers."

Reid turned his head sharply. "Hankel's computers? In the cabin?" He looked devastated. "You didn't make Garcia watch … " He pushed himself away from the table and tried to calm his breathing.

Abby said, "Tea or water?"

"Water. I'll be fine in a minute."

Hotch put a hand on his shoulder. "To answer your question, no. I had her check to see if the files were there and made certain I knew how to use the equipment. I'm the only one who saw them die, or rather, saw the recording of their death." Hotch's voice was low and reassuring.

"Maybe we should have waited to eat." Abby was looking a little pale herself.

"You and Spencer will not need to see it."

"I'm sure I've seen worse in the lab."

Reid came in with. "I wish you wouldn't. I'd like to have someone right now who doesn't look at me and see that."

Abby nodded.

Reid continued. "After this is done. After my three week break, I'm going to want to see it myself. I need to watch it, but not now. If you think it's necessary…"

Hotch finished it. "Abby, I'll put your name on the entry list myself, as long as you have Reid's permission. I just ask that you not watch it anywhere but at the BAU. I'm not thrilled about having to put it on Ducky's computer."

"Call me when you're done, and I'll make certain no traces are left on his hard drive." She turned to Reid. "I want to know what happened, but I'll wait until you're ready for me to know."

"Thank you." Reid changed the subject. "Ducky, did you really meet Michael Redgrave in Hong Kong?"

Ducky grinned. "I did indeed. A fascinating actor. I remember … "

***   
Hotch accepted the snifter of brandy from his host.

Ducky poured his own. "I assume I'll need this."

"If you weren't Reid's physician, I'd suggest a double."

"Are you going to be all right, seeing this again?"

"I'm still having nightmares about it, but, yes, I'll be fine." Hotch walked over to the computer in the corner of Ducky's office.

"You said your wife and son were away. You can stay here tonight. God knows I have enough guest rooms."

"I was going to ask if you wanted me to come back tomorrow. Since it's the weekend, I can take a turn keeping an eye on him."

Ducky smiled. "You'll have to go through Abby. She's barely letting me near him."

"Are they likely to be long term?"

"Do you disapprove?" Ducky's smile became playful. "Is it an interagency issue?"

Hotch chuckled, glad of the respite. "No to both questions. I think it would be good for Reid to have someone in his life. I was wondering if Abby was likely to be it."

"I don't know. I can tell you, it's rare that she doesn't stay close to her lovers, her exes. She's made a few poor choices, but most of the people she's loved are still people she loves, if that makes sense."

"It does. I'm old-fashioned enough to think it's strange that she hasn't settled down and to hope for something more for Reid, but I think he's been more content lately. Once he comes through this addiction, I think he'll know himself better."

"A very thin silver lining from a most ominous cloud." He took another sip of his brandy. "This will never be easy. Tell me what I'm going to see."

"The unsub set up a live feed from his cabin to his home. He didn't always have the equipment on, so, for instance, we didn't know Reid's feet had been beaten until he was at the hospital. He was limping, but he walked out of that graveyard. This thumb drive is, forgive the flippancy, a 'greatest hits' collection of the mental torture Reid endured. You'll notice he's shackled to a chair in his shirtsleeves with bare feet. It was only about twenty degrees at night and during the day it never broke freezing. One of the personalities burned fish guts to keep away evil spirits. Trust me, shit doesn't smell worse."

"And Spencer's senses, except his eyesight, are very good. He has a heightened sensitivity to touch and sound that I've noticed. It wouldn't surprise me if he was sensitive to smell as well. They often go together."

"Bear that in mind as you watch this."

The snippets weren't long. Two or three minutes of choices and threats and Russian roulette at a time were all Hotch had with him.

"This one… I don't know if you want to see it. As you saw, Reid picked a family to save when he picked someone to die. We looked at all the monitors, he picked as rationally as one can. The smallest group -- two people -- the oldest people, no children were in the picture he saw. I know he hoped that we could find a way to save them. I was in his room at the hospital, and he talked in his sleep. We couldn't even begin to know which ones were targeted. The whole murder took place in front of him. You don't need to see it."

"You're right, I don't." His voice was low with emotion, and he took another sip of his brandy.

"You definitely need to see this piece."

Ducky watched as Reid choked on his own vomit before the feed went abruptly blank. "How long was he kept in the hospital?"

"They admitted him and kept him overnight. He flew back with us the next morning. That happened nearly twelve hours before this last snippet and this is where he gave us the last clues to find him." Hotch played the final piece, the one where Reid picked him to die.

Ducky nodded grimly at the end. "If you give me the name of the admitting physician, I'll have his license pulled. That's assuming you told him about Spencer's death."

"Yes. I did. Gideon was against it because he thought getting back to Virginia would be better for Reid, but I thought the doctor should know."

"You're not making me like Agent Gideon any more, you know. What haven't you told me about Spencer's ordeal?"

"I don't know what happened after the feed cut out that last time. When we got to the cabin, we heard a shot. What we found was that Spencer had been digging his own grave. He tricked the unsub into putting down his weapon, and shot him with it. The personality of Tobias, the young one, came back in time to die. I found that out from his talking in his sleep too."

"Christ. From the time he was captured until his rescue, Spencer estimated it was about sixty hours. Was he right?"

"Very close. Fifty seven from when we found JJ and that was only seventeen minutes after he was taken." Hotch took a sip of his own.

Reid said, "That's good to know."

Abby was standing behind him in the doorway. "I couldn't stop him."

Ducky smiled. "No reason you should, Abby." He indicated the sofa and chair and they came in and sat down.

Hotch sat next to Reid. "Are you up for this?"

"The questions? No. But I never will be."

Ducky said, "I'm going to make a pot of tea. I have peppermint and rosehip herbal teas. Does either of them appeal to you, Spencer?"

"I'm not sure it's all opiate withdrawal. It could be caffeine." Reid gave a half smile. "Peppermint with lots of sugar."

"Fair enough." Ducky started to leave.

Hotch said. "Peppermint sounds good to me too."

"And you Abby?"

"Caffeine all the way, Ducky."

"I should have known, my dear."

When he came back with the tray, Hotch and Abby helped to set it on the table. All his guests were smiling, and Ducky considered it a good sign. He gave everyone a cup and made sure they could all reach the sugar, milk, and digestive biscuits.

"Well. Now for the hard part. Spencer, do you recall how many times Tobias injected you?"

"No. I fought the first one, the second, too. But I nearly begged for the last one. I kept hoping I'd die that way and not know it was coming. How many were in between the second and the last one? I know there was one, but I can't be sure there weren't more."

Hotch nodded. "His sponsor mentioned a hallucinogen. Was there any evidence of that?"

"Flashbacks to living with Mom. Dad walking out. Committing her." He gave an embarrassed glance at Abby. "She's schizophrenic."

"Thank you for telling me." Abby was as solemn as a three year old, and Hotch thought how perfect she was for Reid.

Reid heaved a sigh and took another sip of his tea. "I was worried at first that without the hallucinogen the Dilaudid wouldn't be as good. It was better. I didn't feel like I had to worry about going crazy, and it soothed me."

Hotch said, "New Orleans."

"I turned my phone off. I wanted to know if I could walk away."

"And what was the answer?" Ducky's voice was gentle.

Reid faced Hotch. "That I can. But I have responsibilities, and I want to live up to them. I'm not Elle. Or even Jason Gideon."

Hotch nodded. "No. You're not." He saw Reid yawn and helped him put the cup and saucer back on the tray. Turning to Ducky he asked, "Should he be so tired?"

"It's an excellent sign. Now that he's no longer dehydrated he can heal, and his body is trying to get him to sleep so he can."

"I've already had two naps today."

"And how much sleep did you get before you called me?" Abby peered at him.

"Not a lot in the past few days. I'll head upstairs."

"I know it's not comfortable for you, but one of us should stay with you tonight. Hotch is staying, so choose one of us to go up with you." Ducky was firm.

His shoulders shook. "That bed is huge, but I wish it were a little bigger then we could all pile in. Abby to hold me and Hotch's voice to soothe me and you to look after me."

Ducky smiled broadly. "I'll keep that in mind the next time I'm in the market for a new bed."

Hotch stood. "You two have had your chances. I'll take the night shift and then catch a nap tomorrow if I need it."

"There's a day bed, and my bedroom is on the other side of the bathroom if there's an emergency."

"Thank you. Just let me get my bag out of the car."

***   
Hotch came downstairs the next morning and found Ducky making breakfast. Abby handed him a cup of coffee before he sat down.

"Long night?" Ducky looked him over sympathetically. "How would you like your eggs?"

"Scrambled. Do you think he's been having nightmares like that every night?" Hotch scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"No. The drug suppressed dreaming, or let him focus it. I know it doesn't seem like it, but it's a good sign."

Abby asked, "How much longer will it last?"

Reid walked in. "About two weeks total according to everything I read. Maybe less since I wasn't shooting up for that long. They say withdrawal isn't life threatening."

"If you eat enough and don't dehydrate, that's generally true." Ducky looked at him. "You're already looking better."

"I'm not up to a fried breakfast, I'm afraid." He turned to Hotch. "I'm sorry about the screaming. Weirdly enough, the hot and cold flashes were worse for me."

Hotch snorted. "I was about to say, 'Don't sweat it,' but I realized, in this context…"

Everyone smiled.

"I'll be fine, Hotch. I probably would have been fine even without Abby and Ducky, but I'm glad I called them."

"I am too." Hotch covered Reid's hand with his own. "Stop trying to steal my coffee."

"No caffeine? Really?"

"I'm more worried about stomach cramps than anything else. Thanks to Hotch we have plenty of soup, if you'd like that?"

Reid nodded.

"So, Spencer. Here's the deal. You'll stay here for the next week. I'm sure none of us is looking forward to the irritability and paranoia, but I'd still rather you were my guest than alone through it. After that, mother will have to come home and you are welcome to stay, but I understand that it might not be conducive to your recovery. I will ask you to call me twice a day to check in, unless Abby's staying with you."

Abby grinned. "Told you. Piles of comp time."

"Even then, I want to talk to one or the other of you every evening. After that, I'll run a few tests and clear you for duty. If you have more leave than that…"

"He does." Hotch interjected.

"Then spend a week finding a therapist and taking some non-paranoid time for yourself. If Abby can still stand you at that point, take her some place."

"If Ducky has your permission, I'd like him to call me with an update twice a week until he clears you for duty. As your unit chief, you're already cleared for duty and this is just a vacation. As your friend, I'm worried. And as your teammate, I need to be able to reassure the rest of the team. They're still hurting from Elle, too."

Reid nodded. "I know. I really snapped at Emily."

"Bring in doughnuts your first day back for the team and pick out a book for Emily. She seems to read a lot on the plane."

"Do you have to go right now?" Reid sounded a little lost.

"No."

"Then stay today. Even if I am paranoid and irritable. You came for me. You listened to what I said, and found me. That means a lot."

"Heart to heart talks can come later." Ducky put a plate in front of Hotch and a bowl of reheated wonton soup in front of Reid. "Let's start with breakfast."

Abby put her hand over Spencer's. "I'll bet you'll look distinguished with a beard."

Spencer squeezed her hand, and smiled. "Thank you."


End file.
